Questions and Answers

Have I lost my flame like the lamp on the altar? Or have I lost my last fire like a dying ember? Do I stand unconsumed in the heat of this flair? Or have I been destroyed; now nothing but ashes? This is a message to the brain that wants to kill me from my soul that refuses to die. I may have been born wretched, confused, a coward; but today I refuse to tremble, cower, or cry. On the next mountaintop, in this pitch dark, I see a flickering candlelight. Do I dare walk across the valley? Do I dare to not try?